Apocalypse

Before the zombie virus broke out, I could barely lift a thing.

After the apocalypse hit, I was taking out zombies with a single swing.

When that two-faced bitch threatened me, I had one answer: Then we die together.

Crossed-inspired (but toned down; mere skin exposure does not cause infection) / apocalypse / strong female lead / survival / pseudo-ensemble cast / alternate world / no romance / no supernatural abilities / dark fiction / not a power fantasy / no easy victories / everyone suffers / desperate survival. The female lead is not the decisive, ruthless type. She is emotionally sensitive and suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder.

In her previous life, Qingshui had fought tooth and nail to survive the apocalypse. When zombies overran the base, she risked everything to escort the base’s sole surviving researcher onto a plane, only to die in the jaws of the undead herself.

She thought that was the end of her life. Instead, in the blink of an eye, she was reborn into a vibrant world she had never seen before. There were no zombies here. No starvation. No bloodshed or chaos.

During her first year here, she even thought she had arrived in the paradise Aunt Chen used to talk about, despite the many classes she could not understand.

Just as she was finally beginning to accept her new life, the dream shattered…

In the middle of an unexpected exam, a piercing scream rang out from the classroom next door, awakening Qingshui’s long-honed survival instincts. Ignoring everyone else’s warnings, she grabbed the Dorm Leader and insisted they run back to their dorm.

Severed limbs littered their path, and the stench of blood filled the air. In mere moments, the entire campus became a living hell.

These creatures were even more terrifying than zombies. They tore people apart and devoured them alive, tormenting their victims for sheer amusement. Anyone caught by them would be better off dead.

And in this world gone mad, Qingshui will have to find a way to survive!

When the zombie outbreak hit, my two-faced best friend locked me out.

Before I could find somewhere to hide, the ten-year-old next door bit me on the butt.

He was little, and his teeth weren’t much good.

Becoming a zombie hadn’t made him much tougher, either.

Once he’d bitten me, he stiffly shuffled away.

Watching him go, I suddenly felt a little embarrassed.

Suppose zombies ruled the world years from now, and someone asked how we’d all turned.

Everyone else would have fought off a whole pack of vicious zombies before finally going down.

Or sacrificed themselves heroically to save humanity.

Was I supposed to say I’d been lousy at hiding and some brat shorter than me had bitten my butt?

I felt pretty miserable.

But not for long.

Then I decided to stop trying.